To one who has been long in city pent
To one who
has been long in city pent,
'Tis very sweet to look into the fair
And open face of heaven, - to breathe a prayer
the smile of the blue firmament.
Who is more
happy, when, with heart's content,
Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair
Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair
tale of love and languishment?
home at evening, with an ear
Catching the notes of Philomel, - an eye
the sailing cloudlet's bright career,
He mourns that day so soon has glided by:
the passage of an angel's tear
That falls through the clear ether silently.